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Tattoos and all, Chef Asher breathes life into The Old Place.

By: Stephen Roesler

David Asher looks the part. Just over six feet with tattoos crawling out of shirt collar, you’ll likely find Chef Asher on his 69′ Harley or directing an amiable kitchen crew in the back of The Old Place. But that’s not to say he’s unsophisticated, just not ostentatious. With a vision to keep his restaurant rustic and a hint of inspiration from Dom Deluise, Asher aims to accentuate the undeniable antiquity that healthily lives at The Old Place.

“The Culinary world has gotten so hyped up in the past few years,” he says distastefully. “I think it has lost its simplicity, its palatability. Everything is so technical that its made people believe you have to be really, really good or you shouldn’t touch food.”

And that’s wrong, believes the CIA (Culinary Arts Institute) trained Asher. It’s about the company, conversation, and communion with family and friends.

With a humble background from central Florida, his fascinating road to the Old Place is entirely atypical. Growing up around a family who believed in traditional gender roles, cooking was left to the women. In his case, however, his mother was not a cook.

“If we wanted to eat, we had to make it ourselves,” he says with wide blue eyes. “I was taking egg noodles and putting paprika and butter in it and figuring out something good to eat.”

But the slender chef has come a long way from his childhood menu. After attending college for a short stent, Asher began a job as an EMT. Quickly deciding it wasn’t for him, he began working at the Hard Rock Café and later moved to the Blue Jazz Café as a Garmache. Dissatisfied, Asher pursued formal training. “I had to find a way to get that coat,” he insists.

Making a drastic move to New York City, he soon received a French culinary degree. He went on to work at Casa La Femme, Eros, and Tapas Bar and Lounge – all in mid-town Manhattan. Before long, the visibly composed chef began to feel pressure to leave town.

“I was in a relationship at the time and she really wanted to go to California,” he explained. “I made it in New York,” he thought. “I’m sure if I can make it there, I can make it anywhere.”

With a U haul and a few hundred dollars, they left town. “Long story short, we’re not together anymore,” he laughs. But that hasn’t affected his success. After literally transforming a Pasedena-based eatery into a white tablecloth restaurant, he moved north of Los Angeles to escape the traffic.

Since his arrival, The Old Place, known in the ’70s for its clams and sirloin steak, has undergone a substantial change. Asher has taken a fare of just two items and vastly expanded. They now offer a seasonal menu that varies weekly.

‘We have grown up and become a little more flexible. Now we have sour cream, now we have diet coke,” he says sarcastically. “We have chicken on our menu and salad. We’ve got it all.”

Although he preserved the classic bone in rib eye, sirloin and clams, the Old Place now boosts a full menu. A lot has changed. This week they’re serving a Novy Ranch filet mignon. Known for its grass fed, healthy cows, Novy Ranch produces some of the finest local beef.

“We want everything to be local Californian,” he says firmly. “We don’t want to get Maine lobsters. We want to get spiny lobsters out of the Pacific here.”

And the regulars don’t seem to mind. In fact, it’s difficult to get a reservation at the Old Place because their customers are so loyal.

“It’s a good story,” Asher comments sincerely. “Here at the Old Place, we love that story.”

Continuing to foster the Old Place, Asher’s job is literally 24-7. Making calls to purveyors in the middle of the night, researching potential menu items on his days off, and regularly working in the kitchen 5 days a week, Asher rarely gets time to himself. But when does, you may see him tinkering with his classic Chevy hard tail or removing some of his old tattoos.

His right hand has the letters L-O-S-T strewn across his fingers in fading ink. As for the other hand, “It used to say H-O-P-E, but I took that off with a Dremel tool,” he says casually. “A little crazy. I didn’t want it on anymore.”

If you happen to see him around town, don’t be afraid to ask him how many tattoos he has. He’ll likely tell you with a half-mooned smile, “Just one big one.” You’ll know it’s him.

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